What Cannot Be Expressed Nor Concealed
by Selina K
Summary: It wasn't meant to be. They both knew it. Warning: character deaths. Angsty DG.


**Title**: What Cannot Be Expressed Nor Concealed

**Rating**: PG

**Pairing**: Draco/Ginny

**Summary**: _It wasn't meant to be. They both knew it._

**Warnings**: Character deaths

**Author's Notes**: Written for the 2006 D/G Fic Exchange. This story was greatly inspired by the film "The Bridges of Madison County." The title comes from a poem by Byron, which also plays a significant role in the movie. Many thanks to melusinahp for her constructive comments. Any other errors are mine. Everything else belongs to Ms. Rowling.

"No! I won't do it!" shouted Ron Weasley as he stomped into the living room of his house, dusting off the light coating of snow on his cloak. "I can't believe she'd ask me to do that." He pulled irritably at the tie around his neck. "Damn it, Hermione, why do you have to make these knots so complicated!"

"Well, if you'd only learn how to do them properly, then I wouldn't have to dress you," replied his wife calmly as she followed him into the house. "Oh calm down, Ronald. You'd think she'd asked you to hex your children from the way you're carrying on."

He worked at the knot for a few more moments then gave up. "I need a drink." Ignoring Hermione's pursed lips, he went into the kitchen and pulled down a bottle of Firewhisky from a shelf. Ron splashed a generous amount of the liquid into a glass. After a brief pause, he decided to drink straight from the bottle itself.

"Ginny…and…" He choked out the hated name. "Malfoy?!" Throwing his hands up, he turned around to look at Hermione for answers. "How could she do that to Neville? To us?"

"I don't know, Ron," she said softly. "She didn't confide in me. I'm sure Ginny had her reasons." Reaching inside her cloak, she pulled out some folded parchment, neatly bound together by a ribbon, and offered it to her husband. "You left so suddenly, Percy didn't have time to give it to you."

"To me?" Ron eyed the object warily, as if she held a spider in her hand. "What is it?"

"A letter, I believe. Oh, do take it already. It's not a Howler." Hermione finally reached over, grabbed his wrist and placed the packet firmly in her husband's hands.

"Well I don't want to read it. I don't need to hear about her and Malfoy."

Hermione simply rolled her eyes. "Give it a chance, will you?"

For days, he left the letter on top of his dresser, unopened. Finally, after much nagging from Hermione, he decided to untie the ribbon and unfold the pages.

_Dear Ron,_

_I can't imagine how angry you must be. But I want you to put that aside for a moment and listen to, or I suppose read, what I have to say. _

_The last thing I expected was to fall in love with Draco Malfoy. But that's what happened. I realize that this must be very hard for you to understand so let me start from the beginning…_

Malfoy Manor still retained its air of genteel snobbery despite the rose bushes in the front garden being stripped bare of their flowers and portions of the façade beginning to crumble. It was apparent that the current owner did not share the same steadfast devotion to keeping up appearances that the previous ones did.

Ginny Weasley approached the doors and was about to lift the brass knocker when they swung open, revealing a house-elf standing in foyer.

"Oh." She blinked in surprise. "I'm—"

"The master is waiting for you. Please follow me." The elf bowed low before turning around and leading her down the hallway. The manor was so eerily quiet that the hollow echo of her footsteps as she crossed the marble floor made her wince. She glanced up at the portraits that lined the walls. The occupants glared at her, but otherwise made no sound. Arrogant gits, Ginny thought sourly. Probably beneath them to even talk to someone who's not a Death Eater.

Finally the elf stopped outside a heavy door. He opened it and indicated that she should enter.

The room she'd been led to was comfortable enough, though it looked like it hadn't seen many visitors recently, judging by the cobwebs hanging from the corners. A fire was blazing away in the massive fireplace, the object of her visit sitting by its side in a huge armchair, intently studying a chessboard. She watched as a black knight galloped across the board, its attack blocked by a pawn during Draco's turn.

"Do you play chess, Weasley?" he asked without looking up.

"It's Longbottom now. And no, I don't."

"Pity."

Ginny wasn't quite sure if he was referring to her marriage or her lack of chess-playing skills.

Finally Draco stood up, leaning against the mantle as he observed his guest. Her heart skipped a beat; he looked so much like his father, with that ever-present smirk and the hair down to his shoulders. His grey eyes swept lazily over her and Ginny squashed the ridiculous urge to smooth out the wrinkles in her skirt. "I could use some real competition. It's quite boring when one wins all the time."

"I'm sure," Ginny said dryly as she pulled out a roll of parchment from her satchel. "You've ignored the last few owls we've sent so the Ministry—"

"Decided to send you instead," he interrupted her as he snatched the summons from her fingers and tossed it to the side. "I know why you're here, Weasley—"

"Longbottom."

Draco continued as if he hadn't heard her. "I'm not a fool. I know what the Ministry wants. Every single piece of Malfoy property and you're here to make sure they can account for every bloody knut."

Ginny maintained a carefully neutral expression on her face. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."

"Right." Draco scoffed in disbelief. "You're enjoying this, aren't you? Watching me suffer?"

"If I am, you have your father to thank for that," she replied acidly.

Draco had the decency to look ashamed after at her response. He turned away from her and flung himself back in his armchair. "Come back tomorrow," he said as he resumed his game. "I'll leave instructions with the house-elves to assist you if needed."

Irritated at the abrupt dismissal, Ginny spun on her heels and left without another word.

She seethed all the way home. How could she let him get to her like that? Rubbing her fingers over her temples, Ginny sighed wearily as she entered the flat. Her head simply throbbed after her encounter with Malfoy.

"Want a cup of tea? I just made some for myself and it looks like you could use one."

She looked up to see her husband coming out of the kitchen to greet her. Her mood much improved, Ginny rushed over and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I didn't think you'd be finished at St. Mungo's so soon," she said, kissing him warmly on his cheek.

Neville flashed her a brief smile. "They ran the same tests as the last time." His forehead wrinkled in concern as he looked into his wife's tired eyes. "And how was the meeting with Malfoy?"

"Much better than I thought it would be. He's actually cooperating this time, though I don't know how long that will last."

"Well, if he starts to bother you too much, just let me know." He pulled out his wand and struck a dueling pose. "After all, I'm a hero of the Wizarding World now. I'm sure I can take him in a fight." He waggled his eyebrows at her.

Ginny's smile was wide. "Oh Neville, you always know how to cheer me up."

* * *

Draco was true to his word. She was able to perform her task, cataloguing the various items that belonged to the Malfoy family, without much difficulty. The house-elves would even come around and ask if she needed anything. Ginny rarely saw Draco during those first few weeks and when they did cross paths, he barely acknowledged her presence. Her apprehension at spending her working hours near a Malfoy eventually diminished. She even found that she preferred the silence of the Malfoy home to the noisy bustle of her Ministry office. 

The portraits, however, continued to ignore her. She didn't mind the lack of conversation, until the day she found herself lost in one of the upstairs hallways.

"Please sir, if you'll just tell me where—"

"Oh don't bother. They won't answer you."

Exasperated, Ginny whirled around and found Draco leaning against the wall, his eyes dancing with amusement at the situation.

"And why is that?" she snapped at him. "It's against Malfoy tradition to speak to someone with an impure bloodline?"

"I suppose that could have been the case a year ago." His smirk deepened as he strolled over to her. "Actually, all the portraits in the manor have been charmed to stay silent."

Ginny stared at him, brown eyes wide with surprise. "Why?"

Draco shrugged. "They couldn't keep their opinions to themselves so I cast a Silencing Charm. It's a vast improvement, I assure you."

He gave the portrait a mocking salute before brushing past her. "The room you're looking for is on the first floor," he called over his shoulder as he disappeared around the corner.

* * *

The nightmares began to visit her again, though they seemed less terrifying now than they did in the days following her rescue from that dungeon. Ginny had even managed to hide her sleepless nights from Neville. Unfortunately, that was not the case with Draco. 

"What happened to you, Weasley?"

Ginny immediately stopped yawning and picked up her quill. She'd stopped correcting him on his use of her maiden name a while ago.

"It's nothing, Malfoy," she replied mildly as she added the vase in front of her to her records. "Just had a hard time sleeping last night."

"You've been doing that a lot this week."

Startled, Ginny dropped her quill, splattering ink all over the parchment. "How—"

"You've been spending a lot of time staring off into space." Lifting one hand up, Draco studied his nails intently, adding, "I hope you're not charging the Ministry for a full day's work."

"You've been spying on me!" she gasped, dismayed at the thought of him watching her so closely.

"As far as I know, it's not a crime." Draco walked up to her, gazing closely into her tired eyes.

"When was the last time you rode a broom, Weasley?"

* * *

Touching a hand reverently to the trunk of the towering oak tree, Ginny surveyed the lush, green forest, her mind at once eased by its stillness. 

"You were right," she murmured, glancing over at Draco. He was sitting on a low branch, feet swaying inches above the ground. She was amazed at the change in his appearance. Out here Draco looked much younger, the cynical lines around his mouth smoothed out. "It's quite beautiful out here."

He inclined his head and the brilliant smile he gave her almost took her breath away. "It looks even better in the winter, with the snow on the ground and sunlight glittering all around you. It hurts to even look at it."

Ginny returned his smile. "So this is where you've been flying off to on your broom?"

Draco raised one eyebrow in response.

"You're not the only one who's been observant."

"So it seems." He jumped down from his perch and seated himself across from her on the forest floor. "What's bothering you, Ginny?" he asked her softly.

Maybe it was the use of her first name. She began to tell him about her nightmares.

* * *

Ginny headed out to Malfoy Manor as soon as she'd learned about the Ministry's decision to confiscate all of the Malfoy assets. When the house-elf informed her that the young master was not present, she knew exactly where to find him. 

The leaves crunched under her feet as she approached the figure leaning against the oak tree.

"I'm so sorry, Draco."

"Don't be. I'm tired of the whispers, the fools who think they know everything about me just because they've heard of my father." He turned around to face her, his grey eyes bleak and hollow. "Who knows? I might be better off out there in the Muggle world."

"What about—" Ginny started to say before she bit her lip to stop the rush of words.

It wasn't meant to be. They both knew it.

Instead, she took his hands, twining her fingers around his. His lips descended on hers in a kiss of quiet desperation.

* * *

There were too many people, Ginny thought as she walked down the street, clutching her husband's hand tightly. Neville hadn't had the energy to leave the flat the past few weeks, so when he'd recovered enough to suggest a trip to Diagon Alley she could hardly refuse him, even if she felt like wallowing in her misery under the bedclothes. 

She was grateful when her husband suggested that they duck into the tea shop for a bit of a break and to escape the light drizzle that had started to fall. Her smile strained around the edges, Ginny listened politely to Neville's excited chatter about the new Herbology journal he'd picked up at Flourish and Blott's.

As she looked up from her tea cup, she glimpsed Draco through the rain-dappled window. He was standing on the other side of the street, a rucksack slung over one shoulder.

He was watching her.

_Waiting for her._

Tears began to form at the corners of her eyes. Her fingers tightened on the table as she began to rise from her chair…

"Ginny! Neville! So good to see both of you!"

Blinking back the tears, Ginny turned around to see Dean Thomas waving at them. When she returned her gaze to the window, it was too late.

Draco was already gone.

* * *

_I returned to my safe, uneventful life after Draco Malfoy left. Though there were times I found myself reliving those moments by the oak tree, I knew that my rightful place was by Neville's side. After he passed away, I tried to find word of Draco's whereabouts, but it seemed as if he'd disappeared completely. I finally had my answer a few years ago when a letter arrived informing me of Draco's death, far away in America._

Ron ran one hand over oak's trunk and breathed in the crisp winter air. It was indeed beautiful out here, just as Ginny had described. Now he understood her final wish.

Taking an urn from his backpack, he emptied the contents over the tree's roots and watched solemnly as Ginny's ashes were carried away by the wind.

_I gave Neville everything I had. I now wish to give to Draco what is left of me_.


End file.
